


When the floodwater comes, it's gonna look like mud

by blahblahblaharringrove (blahblahblahcollapse)



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Castle Byers, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Injured!Billy, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-26
Updated: 2019-06-26
Packaged: 2020-05-20 00:35:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,170
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19366708
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blahblahblahcollapse/pseuds/blahblahblaharringrove
Summary: This is just a lil drabble about Billy hiding out in Castle Byers after a bad run-in with Neil, and being found by Will and Joyce.





	When the floodwater comes, it's gonna look like mud

“Mom!” the shrillness of Will’s voice goes straight to Joyce’s heart like an electric shock, pulse skyrocketing as she slams shut the dryer door and rushes out onto the back porch.

“Will?” She calls back right as she collides with her son on the steps. “Will, honey, what’s wrong?” She grabs his face, holds him at arms length so she can check him over as her heart tries to beat right out of her chest.

“I’m okay,” Will responds, but his voice is shaking. “It’s Billy.”

“Who’s Billy?” Joyce asks, pulling him into a tight hug, trying to ground herself.

“Max’s step-brother,” Will explains. “You met him at Steve’s graduation.” Fear drops like a rock in Joyce’s stomach - She doesn’t really remember meeting Billy, but she’s met his father on numerous occasions, and she’s heard enough about Billy’s run-ins with the kids to know something’s not right with him.

“Will, honey, what happened?” She pulls back to look Will in the face again. “Did he try to hurt you?”

“No, mom,” Will shakes his head. “He’s hurt. He’s at the castle.”

“What?” Joyce frowns down at him. “How is he hurt?”

“I don’t know what happened,” Will says. “But he’s at Castle Byers and I think he’s been there all night.”

“Okay,” Joyce nods slowly, squeezing Will’s shoulders and then letting go. “Okay. Go inside and call Hop, I’m going to go check on him.” Will nods back and hurries past her up the steps. With the adrenaline subsiding she realizes just how cold it is outside, breath collecting in puffs beneath her nose. I think he’s been there all night. Jesus, he must be frozen solid if that’s the case.

When she gets to Castle Byers, heavy knit blanket held in one arm and a canteen of hot soup in the other, everything looks as normal as ever from the outside. The dead leaves that litter the ground crunch beneath her feet as she walks over to the entrance, pulling open the curtain. She spots him curled up in the corner, wearing only a denim jacket and jeans.

“Billy?” She says quietly, approaching him carefully. “I’m Joyce, Will’s mom. Are you okay?” He doesn’t answer. She sets the canteen down to the side and starts to unfold the blanket.

“I brought a blanket for you,” she says, crouching down at his side and laying the blanket over him. He still doesn’t respond, but she can see him trembling, so she knows he’s at least alive.

“I brought some soup, too,” she continues, turning around to pick up the canteen. There’s a rustling sound behind her, and when she turns back to face him, the blanket has been pulled more tightly around him. She sits down a few feet away and waits, taps gently on the canteen as she holds it against her chest.

It takes longer than she would like, but eventually he sits up. He clutches the blanket around his shoulders as he turns to face her, and it’s a struggle not to let it show how horrified she is at the ugly purple bruise across his left cheek.

“Did you get in a fight?” She asks. He doesn’t say anything, but the wetness in his eyes and the way he hunches in on himself even more at her question, tells her everything she needs to know. It takes her back to the time she’d followed Jonathan out here when he was just eleven years old. She’d crawled in after him and held his face in her hands, examined the angry red handprint across his cheek, apologized and cried until her throat felt raw. That was the first and last time Lonnie Byers ever laid a hand on either of her sons.

She swallows down the nausea building in her throat, blinks away the red hue clouding her vision, talks herself down from getting up and walking straight to the Hargrove house to give Mr. Hargrove a piece of her goddamn mind. She opens up the canteen instead and fills the lid with soup, offering it to Billy. He accepts with shaking hands, holds it close to his face and breathes in the steam for a moment before taking a sip, wincing a bit as he swallows.

“Thank you.” He whispers, voice gravelly and weak. She smiles, happy to hear him finally say something.

“Can you walk?” She asks. “We should get you out of this cold.”

“Yeah,” he nods. “It hurts, but I can walk.” She waits patiently while he finishes the rest of the soup in the lid, wishing there was something more she could say, or do. If it was one of her own boys she’d hug him, pull him in tight and promise him that she’d never let this happen to him again. But he isn’t hers. So she keeps a respectful distance, keeps her questions and promises to herself, and then helps him stand up when he’s ready.

“Billy!” They’re just outside the entrance when Steve Harrington’s voice disrupts the quiet of the woods, and the muscles in Billy’s arm tense beneath Joyce’s hand. She squeezes his arm gently, offering him a reassuring smile when he glances down at her nervously.

“Billy…” Steve says breathlessly as he rounds the corner of the little fort and comes to a halt in front of them. The grimace on his face at the sight of Billy’s face is tactless, and a little too understanding for Joyce’s liking - as if this whole thing isn’t news to him. She’ll have to sit him down and discuss that later, but for now her focus is on getting Billy out of the damn cold.

Steve is fidgeting, unsure what to do with his hands, like he wants to reach out - to touch, offer comfort, but he can’t. And when Joyce glances back at Billy, she recognizes the same conflict on his face. Suddenly things are a whole hell of a lot clearer.

“Steve, can you help Billy get back to the house? I’m going to run ahead and make sure we’ve got a spot on the couch for him.” She says, gesturing to Billy’s arm.

“Uh, yeah, ‘course,” Steve nods, stepping forward to take her place. The way Billy’s entire body eases at Steve’s touch doesn’t escape her notice.

“Try to drink some more soup,” Joyce hands the canteen to Billy with a smile, heart melting a little when he offers a very small but genuine smile in return. “I’ll see you back at the house.” Both boys nod and she turns away from them.

“Baby…” the word is whispered from Steve’s lips, private and familiar, but Joyce still hears it, and she smiles to herself as she heads back to the house. It’s obvious that Billy needs all the love and support he can get, and she’s happy to know that he’s already found some of that in Steve. She makes a promise to herself to make sure he gets even more love and support than he can hold.


End file.
